It's bad enough the entire archeology community thinks
they're "crackpots," but after her professor suffers a medical
emergency, Penny Redfern finds herself alone at the dig with their
handsome wilderness guide. Suddenly she has a lot more on her mind than
searching for a suspected Viking longship in the Far North of Alaska.
Wolf Weiss can't help but lust after the gorgeous Penny, but his sense
of professionalism keeps him politely distant. Plus, it's a full moon,
that time of the month for Wolf to howl with the pack. Not even the
midnight sun will halt his urge to shift. He can't let Penny find out
he's a shape-shifter—or can he? Will the free-spirited Penny find Wolf's
animal magnetism too strong to resist?

An excerpt from Under the Midnight Sun:

The satellite imagery showed something boat-shaped located
along this shoreline, but it couldn't possibly be an intact Viking sea vessel
after all this time if it had been
exposed to the elements. There was no way anyone could have buried a ship that
size in the permafrost since it was just
too tough to do so even in the perpetually sunny skies of July in the North.
Had it been trapped in an iceberg all these centuries, only to be released from
its icy prison in the recent climate warming trend? Just the thought of Viking
explorers making it through the Northwest Passage and reaching the coast of
Alaska would bring her the fame and attention she craved as an archeologist.

Penny quickly unbraided her hair and pulled a brush through
its thick mass to clear it of some of the worst of the dust and flying debris.
What she wouldn't do for a nice hot shower instead of a bath with some lukewarm
water and a camp basin wash cloth. The sooner they finished surveying the area
for artifacts and other signs of possible Viking activity, the sooner she could
go back home to civilization as she knew it.

Before the paramedics landed, Bev had admonished her,
"Cooperate with Wolf and finish our grid search. That's all you need to
do, and you'll have plenty to write about for your paper. Promise."

Cooperate with Wolf.

It sounded simple enough, but something about the dark-eyed,
introverted outdoorsman made her nervous. Not nervous exactly, but curious. He
wasn't much older than her, she realized, but the striking silver streaks in
his black beard and at his temples indicated he'd lived a stressful life or his
heredity was a bit different from most. Wolf Weiss--white wolf? The translation
of his name sounded like some of her Lakota cousins' names on her mother's
side.

She had to admit, Wolf possessed something other males of
her acquaintance lacked, a sort of animalmagnetism that had attracted her from their first meeting. While Dave was the
more outspoken of the two, openly joking with her like her kid brother, Wolf
had kept his distance and minded his manners. If anything, he was too damn
polite. That made her nervous. How could anyone who lived in the wilderness
have such refined manners? She supposed he hadn't always lived and worked in
Alaska, but along with his good looks, self-assurance and few words, his mere
presence intrigued her.

Better yet, he didn't wear a ring or talk about a lover back
in Fairbanks or Nome or elsewhere. Penny had had enough of those two-timing
types.

She wanted to know more about Wolf, but she dared not. They
were both professionals. It wouldn't be professional of her to flirt with him,
would it? But with the climatologists, Dave and Bev all departed, who would
know they'd lapsed in their professionalism if they both kept quiet?

Penny put down her hairbrush and pulled off her hoodie, t-shirt, and bra. She soaked the washcloth in
the basin and wrung it out and gave her upper torso a quick wash, taking care
around her tender nipples. She was halfway through her cycle, and she knew what
was happening—she was feeling extra horny because of ovulation. Any halfway
decent-looking male would make her want to jump his bones and avail herself of
his hard cock.

Penny realized she should be ashamed of herself, thinking of
enjoying wild sex with their guide while her college advisor was deathly ill
and on her way to the hospital, but she couldn't help her hormones. Poor Wolf
was the only man around for miles. Her mind couldn't help spinning erotic
fantasies about the shy guy. How would those whiskers feel rubbing against her
skin? Would they tickle, or torment her with stimulation?

She dropped her jeans and wriggled out of her panties.
Wetting the washcloth, she washed her legs and backside, slowing down as she
approached her pubic area. Hmm…a little stimulation from her own hand felt
good, and it would relieve the tension of being alone with the macho mountain
man of few words for a few days. Penny stretched out across her camp bed and
began to stroke her clit, slowly at first and then faster and harder. She
tweaked her nipples with her other hand and arched her back into the rhythm of
her strokes as she climaxed in a gasp of pleasure.

Relaxing for what seemed the first time in weeks, she
stretched and yawned. "There are some advantages to having the yurt all to
myself, after all." With that thought, she fell asleep.